Sacred Kolors: The Rise of Natural Indigo in West Baltimore

Bryan Wright, Diretor of Operations, on the site of the farm in Upton neighborhood. Seventy fruit trees were planted this spring to provide shade for the indigo through the assistance of the Baltimore Orchard Project

Today on a bright autumn day, in the heart of West Baltimore, Bryan Ibrafall Wright gives me a tour down rows of indigo plants, on a spongy path of wood chips. The plants are little shrubs, all green leaves about the size of a finger. Soon, they’ll be harvesting the branches and processing powder to produce indigo dye, the deep blue magical color that has captivated artisans for centuries. Jars of the precious powder are now available online at Sacred Kolors.

Read more at https://sacredkolors.com/

 “We’ve been working to get this place cleaned up for a year,” notes Bryan, the operating director of the Sacred Kolors project. Once a vacant lot of destroyed buildings that harbored drug deals, the one-acre farm now is a triumph of sweat, weeding, and a mix of funding, which has come from many community resources, including Baltimore Orchard Project, the Maryland Department of Housing and Development and a $300,00 grant from Truist bank. In June 2022, the Maryland Institute of College for the Arts hosted the ground-breaking, a collaboration of the art school, the Natural Dye Initiative and the Upton Planning Commission.

Upton in revival

Upton, once home to Thurgood Marshall and singer Billie Holiday, has had more than its share of crime and boarded up houses. Indigo, which can make blue jeans blue, could be the community’s bread and butter. 

Synthetic indigo used to color jeans is toxic

Indigo carmine, a petroleum-based synthetic used to color blue jeans as well as the many denim products in American wardrobes, has been revealed to be toxic, according to numerous reports from the NIH. Researchers report exposure to synthetic indigo can cause hypertension, skin irritation and gastrointestinal disease.

Natural indigo is primed to take over from the toxic version. Levis are growing natural indigo at Stony Creek Colors in Tennessee for a new brand of plant-based jeans. Other clothing makers from Tommy Hilfiger and Patagonia are looking for potential sources of the sacred blue.

Abandoned school to become reprocessing center

Pieces are falling into place in Upton which is marketing its product online under Sacred Kolors. The Harriet Beecher Stowe Elementary School which will be renovated into a processing plant, is located right across the street from the garden at 1223 Argyle Avenue. Truist Market President Jay 3 cited the project’s potential for job training employment for the community when he gave the $300,000 donation.

The former Harriet Beecher Stowe school will be renovated to become an indigo processing plant

Sacred Kolors has already farmed out indigo seeds to five farms to add to production.

Before it all takes off in a commercial operation, Bryan wants to make sure the quality is the highest  Next year they will fill this acre with indigo, and expand the vegetable garden to an adjoining lot.

There is the joy of watching plants grow and flower and eating fresh from the garden. But Bryan, who has been a leader in urban agriculture, stressed that they are working hard on setting up the indigo plants for business, aiming to provide income and jobs for the community

The farm is an oasis

Besides providing fresh vegetables and a center for the fledgling indigo business, the farm is an oasis of calm for the community. Curly kale flourishes in one row, followed by butterfly peas climbing up strings on stakes in the next. Bryan points out the flowers of the butterfly peas are a brighter blue than indigo. The lush beautiful colored peas will be sold to teamakers who seek it for its unique quality of coloring tea blue.

“All the elders reroute their walks through here now,” says Bryan.  “Police officers come up here during lunch.. . . This is a green space, a place for calm” in the neighborhood.

While he can’t now claim the organic label, the farm is using regenerative methods for the past two years. A proponent of no-till, they use regenerative methods to add nutrition to the soil. They plant cover crops and lay down layers of mulch that are enriching the soil.

No til, regenerative

For Bryan, growing up in Milan (pronounced with the accent on Mi) Tennessee, this is nothing new.  Milan was the international capital of no-til, if only because the small farmers did not have the money or the land to invest in the big machinery of industrial agriculture.

“We had a no-till festival in the 1980’s,” Bryan says.  “No till was recognized then “to feed the soil, stop the weeds” in the fields of soy, corn and cotton.

With that background, Bryan has made his way to west Baltimore, to take on this burgeoning business, that requires as much gardening skills as knowledge of entrepreneurship and sociology.

In his office, a white mobile unit at the end of the garden, Bryan reaches in a cardboard box to display a jar of the indigo powder that will be offered for sale.  It awaits labels bearing the name Sacred Kolors, before going out in the online market via Amazon and Etsy.  An 8 ounce jar of dried crush leaf indigo goes for $20.  Now it’s in demand by artisans who value it for the rich color it brings to hand-made fabric such as silk and wool. Tattoo artists and hair salons also seek the rich blue color.

“We are trying to position ourselves in the market.  Right now we have massive interest,” Bryan says.

A visit to charming La Torre Tolfe in Tuscany

Mania with her dog Daisy at the end of her workday

Atop the Tuscany hills, Mania Castelli has a host of enterprises  to tend to:  hotel, winery, olive oil production, tastings and sales, and a restaurant-plus barnyard animals near and dear to her veterinarian heart.

When I first met her early in the morning her during my stay at La Torre Tolfe, she was jogging and at the end of the long day working on farm projects, she was out to tend to a sick sheep. She’s involved in every aspect of this beautiful Tuscany estate located just 3 kilometers from Siena.

The hotel includes a restaurant offering organic fresh vegetables and grains along with olive oil and wine

Today using regenerative methods to replenish the soil, she and her husband Mark have built up a solid business in agritourism,  boosting crops for excellent wine, olive oil and a wonderful restaurant using the fruits of their labor.

It started eight years ago when Mania, a practicing veterinarian, and her husband Mark, a marine biologist, moved from  England to take over the family business. Her grandfather Luigi Castelli had made a fortune in the steel operations. He and his wife Lunella bought the place in 1953 as a holiday getaway.  There was an ancient wine operation, dating back to the 1316, along with an olive grove and vineyard.  Mania remembers the beauty of the landscape and the great times coming here as a child and making home movies of children’s stories with family members. 

Portrait of Lunella Castelli, Mania’s grandmother, who guided renovation on the house. They restored the 8th century watchtower and added spacious bathrooms

When Mark and Mania  surveyed the farm for its possibilities for relocation, they were disturbed by the damages of erosion, not the beautiful landscape that defines the property today.  ”We didn’t find it very beautiful,” recalls Mania, who co-owns it today with her brother.

At the beginning, resolving to make the farm work, Mania threw herself into turning the 17-bedroom house into a hotel.  The house had been housing workers in the sharecropping system predominant in Italy then. She asked the workers on the original staff to stay on to work in the restaurant and hotel. “ I told them, ‘Let’s share this with other people.’” She herself took on duties as a waitress and concierge, learning on the job. “It was very much, ‘Let’s try this.’”

They hired Giacomo Mastretta, an excellent winemaker who valued their approach to making organic wine.

They found a chef who valued their organic approach to develop some new takes on traditional
Tuscan dishes. In this multi-pronged effort, every piece, from the wine-making to the restaurant, all worked together.

Wine dating from the 1970s is still in the cellar–musty but drinkable. On a tour we went through Etruscan tunnels that go back thousands of years. The tower was built to guard Siena from invasion.

“Then the restaurant became very important,” she continues.  “It’s a place to showcase the wine.  Wine is  a very sexy product and can bring people in.”

For Mania and Mark, the turnaround to organic farm producing olives and grapes and tourist haven has come with a lot of sweat and toil and experimentation. Using regenerative methods is a key part of their philosophy.

As to what precisely that means, Mania gives a long answer.  “It has to translate into something financially viable and that is carbon.  It means a whole bundle of practices added together that reduce the cost and damage done to the earth by farming.

Healthy organic grapes for wine

Given the current drought in Italy, Mania expresses urgency about the need to adopt more regenerative methods of farming due to the specter of climate change, which is wreaking havoc on Italian farms with increasing heat and lessening precipitation. They work with other farmers in a group, backed by the government of Italy,  to  encourage the adoption of more regenerative farming methods. Taking a scientific approach, they are measuring everything from output to number of insects.

Last year there was rain every afternoon for three months.  That has led to a loss of 30 percent every four years, according to Mark.   

Now there is the drought which has hit southern Italy worst. This year, 2024, is the worst year for rainfall in more than 20 years.   In Sicily and Puglia, drought threatens tourism. Each tourist uses 4 times the amount of the average resident.

On the day I met her,  Mania was strategizing with her colleague, Austrian native Sascha Osterle, to develop more regenerative methods that would increase biodiversity on the farm.  Among their ideas: grow sunflowers and use the oil to fuel the farm machinery: reduce the use of copper, commonly used to treat grapes during drought; turn arable land presently filled with wildflowers into pasture for grazing animals that would provide fertilizer for the soil.

Soon Mania will split the property with her brother, who shares her convictions about regenerative farming and the need to diversify.

Already they have adopted some changes in their effort to be more environmentally conscious.  Mania points to a new method for pruning olive trees, changed from clipping branches all over the tree to leaving just one branch in the middle of the tree in order to conserve and direct growth.

Olive trees are pruned so one main branch is directing growth

She is as excited about promoting the olive oil from La Torre Alle Tolfe as much as about the wine.  She conducts olive oil tastings similar to wine tastings. From a tray of 20 different bottles of olive oil, Mania selects one to try.  She smells it, observes the bottle, then takes a sip.  They grow five varieties of olives—out of 200 in Italy– on the farm. Each one tastes different.  To inform consumers, they have created a booklet on frequently asked questions about olive oil.

Smell and taste olive oil for quality

The approach to the 13-hectare vineyard is similar: minimal intervention and no water to grow the grapes and allow their true identity to come through. “We wyere interested in bringing in more sustainability. We started to use less sulfites. The wine is more alive!”

Located in the Chianti Colli Senesi district, their certified Chianti is made according to the strict rules governing Chianti, composed of 80 percent Sangiovese grapes, aged in concrete lined with glass.  Besides two Chianti, they make a refreshing Rose and two others using different combinations of grapes.

Jackie and Emma Tasting Ros/e at the wine shop. They gave it good reviews.

The delicious wine is not too expensive; chianti costs 15.5 euros  at the shop; the more full complex Chianti Reserve goes for 25 euros.  The Chianti Coli Sense was praised as “rich and fruity, all held together with dusty tannins,” in a great review from the NY Times.

At the wine-tasting earlier in the shop, the rose was so refreshing but I really liked the full-bodied Chianti. I had never really had decent chianti until this glass– dark red, tasting slightly of the earth and sandy soil, which is rich in fossilsThis was earthy and smooth and All-natural. Cheers!

Chianti which must be grown in the Chianti region

Discovering wine, olive oil and pasta on a Tuscany farm

Refeshing Ros/e greeted us for lunch, all made at the farm.

We drive up a narrowing road to the farm where we are staying at la Torre alle Tolfe, which dates back to the 8th century.  In the center is a watch tower, built by a knight of Charlemagne’s to defend the city of Siena, 3 km away.   Now it’s a 50-hectare farm, with quarters for at least 24 guests, really more like a hotel than a farmhouse, with its own wine, olive oil, chef and winemaker (most important).

We are on the 3rd floor

When we arranged to stay at a farmhouse, I had no concept of such an elegant well-run estate. I imagined we’d be staying in little rooms and sharing baths, but each of us has a very well-furnished room, private bathroom and views that frame the neat landscape groves and vineyards as beautifully as the background of Leonardo’s Annunciation, which has been imprinted on my mind since seeing it in person yesterday at the Ufizzi in Florence. 

Agritourism is thriving in Italy

Emma found this farm in part, owing to the well-organized Agritourism in Italy, which has a fantastic website and directory of certified farmhouses that offer such accommodations. . Agritourism promotes “only real farmhouses authorized, not B and
B, or holiday homes in the green.” This one has the added bonus, for me at least, of being organic and using regenerative farming. I wish that we had some tourist organization as well done for the beautiful, ailing small farms in Halifax and other small farms in the U.S.

We are starting to relax amid the gentle rolling hills, shimmering silver with olive groves and patched with grapes, topped occasionally red tiled towers.  Very little trash or billboards or mess!

It was an easy one-hour drive from Florence on the two-lane road until the last narrow mile where you could touch the olive trees on either side of our little Italian rental car.  James, Emma and Jackie have really planned everything for this incredible trip to Italy, so I am trying to just sit back and take it all in.  It was a great Christmas present for me and Jackie’s mother Barb, who flew in from Wisconsin to join us on this adventure. 

An Introduction to the farm

Signing in, we get a whiff of a potion they sell and perfume the halls with—olive oil mixed with herbs, all grown and made on the place.  Each of us receives a key with a creature to identify the room.  Mine is the owl, which hoots, to punctuate the constant hum of the crickets, like the cicada music back in the US.  Bernardo in reception gives an outline of directions but promises not to reveal the secrets of the historic tour we have scheduled for tomorrow. He points out the bottles of wine and water in the refrigerator which we can sign out and pay for later, a nice version of the vending machines in U.S. motels.

We quickly settle into spacious rooms with cool tile floors on the third floor.  On the way up the stairs to the third floor, I note a knight in armor outfit, next to a billiard room and heavy wood antiques fit for a castle. The history seeps through the tall book shelves and portraits on the walls.

We quickly make our way to lunch, on teakwood tables outside overlooking Chianti hills. 

Lunch: pasta, wine, cheese and rose

For lunch, we gobble up some fresh focaccia with cheese and tomatoes, spaghetti Bolognese and a really nice Rose, slightly effervescent and so refreshing–all made and grown on the premises.

Swimming, tennis, eating and wine

We take a dip in the pool-bright aqua that stood out against the silvery olive leaves.  Then James and I try to play tennis on a court that challenged our reflexes with all the bad bounces.  Little cracks covered with moss and covered lightly with tiny olive leaves. We had fun hitting the dead balls as hard as we could til James’ shoulder ached and my foot hurt.

Sitting in the Tuscan sun, more relaxed every day here

Dinner is scheduled it for 7:45. We are happy with the House Red, and go through two carafes. It pours as smooth as water, with a rich complex taste, traced to the sandy soil, rich in oyster shells.  There are oyster shell fossils displayed on a shelf as evidence of this land’s former existence under the sea. The soil is one of the reasons for the wine’s excellence.

I choose the Chef’s pasta on the menu—several generous pads of ravioli, covered in a sumptuous olive oil buttery sauce with herbs. Wow! I will stick by whatever is associated with the kindly chef, whom we will meet tomorrow for pasta-making (and eating).

We keep discovering more and more wonderful food grown and cooked here, from olive oil  and wine to herbs and eggs. All delicious!

Chef in his herb garden
Breakfast with melon prosciutto fresh eggs fruit tart and cappuccino
Sunset dinner at the restaurant

Coming up next: a pasta-making lesson and interview with the owner-farmer, on how they keep it going, all natural and organic in the face of climate change

Finally: a trip underground to the wine cellar via an Etruscan tunnel

An introduction to gardens, weeds and groundhogs

I confess, I am not a farmer. Until now, I had not grown much more than a bunch of kale.

The mighty groundhog poses for a picture after feasting on the community gardens in Druid Hill Park. I was looking for a just ripened tomato for a sandwich when I encountered him.

Maybe you can tell, by Farm-finds, that I am in awe of farmers who nourish the earth, using the least harmful methods, those tough men and women who dig and seed and nourish the earth with their smart ways. And bottom line, I love to eat local food– like the luscious white peaches, heirloom tomatoes and plump blackberries, whose tastes that defy poetry. The closer I get to the source of the food, the more local, down to the dirt, the better it is. All thanks to the farmers whom I know.

I have been into the beauty of the cultivated land, not the hands-on, dirt-digging, chicken shit spreading, weed pulling gardening. That is, until this spring, when my friend Rob, renowned for his heirloom tomato crops, recruited me to help in his garden. Rob’s book, Raising Kids and Tomatoes, is full of wonderful anecdotes that made it all sound fun and delicious. Plus I am a recent convert to tomatoes, owing to a tomato sandwich, made with a Cherokee Purple from his garden last year.

Since he had back surgery, he needed someone to help plant and weed. I took the challenge and the chance to learn in depth about gardening, from the ground up. Was this a Tom Sawyer scheme?

Trying to support the overbearing tomato plant

Rob had a plot that he had heard about from our mutual friend Stephanie a few years ago–a space about the size of a pickleball court in the Druid Hill City Farm that he rents for $35 a year from the city in Druid Hill Park. You won’t find a more dedicated, ethical group than these urban farmers.

One of 80 in the park, each plot has access to water, wood chips, pathways–and weeds.

A view of the community garden at Druid Hill

I helped out with planting the seeds under a grow light and nurturing them to hardy plants to put into the soil, with a dollop of fertilizer and compost. The seeds of Heirloom Brandywine, Glacier and Cherokee Purple were dropped in holes.

May: tomatoes are growing furiously

By May, the plants were robust and healthy. To support the unwieldy growth, we placed the bushy plants in cages and staked the bold branches that were growing overburdened with little green globes. In exchange for my help, I got to plant flowers-- columbine, bells of Ireland, marigolds and beebalm along with the old standby--zinnia.

A week ago, the garden was looking good. Clusters of tomatoes had popped out, a smudge of pink on the curve, ready to redden with a bit more sun. Cucumbers, as big as baby baseball bats, lay in pleasant slumber growing under the vines. Basil was high as my thumb.

July: Weeds and groundhogs invade

But like a bad omen on the flower front, my flowers were struggling in a mass of weeds to survive. Cosmos, which I thought, would almost grow automatically if you put the seeds in the ground, were overwhelmed. The last of the marigolds which sported big yellow pompoms like corsages on stems were nibbled to the ground. And only one columbine out of the 40 seeds planted survived. Not a great record, one out of 40. The tomatoes, however, were low hanging fruit, ready to pluck in a few days.

Upon return from a 4th of July vacation, I was craving that tomato sandwich. I thought the tomatoes would be ready.

OMG! the tomatoes that were hanging in those inviting clusters had disappeared. A few shards of tomatoes were at the bottom with bites taken out.

I was furious at who and what could have stolen these gems. How how could a critter have gotten to the top of the plant? Had a human being stolen them?

Vanishing plants

According to Rob, there is a powerful ethic at the gardens. The urban gardeners don’t take any fruit or vegetables from one another, not even a strawberry. Everyone appreciates the sweat and muscle ache of gardening to harvest. More likely, judging from the size of the bites and the numbers of bitten green tomatoes on the ground, a ground hog was on the loose, as was the case last year.

It is so discouraging! What is the point if we are just feeding the ground hog?

Word of the invasion soon spread that day, and fellow gardeners sprang into action. A burrow, probably home to a whole family of the critters, was located and a strategy was hatched to set a trap. True to their strong sense of ethics, someone would be checking the trap every day so the culprit could be freed in woods far away from our tomatoes and other inviting delicacies. I wasn’t feeling so kind; I could have kicked it to the moon. Striding through the plots and observing other bitten fruits, Julia, the director, in well-worn overalls, suggested other ideas; bright whirley gigs can scare them off, she said. Also she may bring in some used kitty litter to line along the borders; groundhogs don’t like its smell.

Did we mind the kitty litter? she asked.

Not at all. Anything to stop the rampage.

All this action was encouraging but it didn’t bring back the tomatoes.

Taking action to defeat the groundhog

Looking over the garden-jungle, I was so depressed. i sat on a weed-covered mound and stared at the jungular grass mass, tight as a rug, that had replaced the cosmos. Weeds were now up to my knees. They could cover the world!

Are you discouraged? I asked Rob. He was glum, sitting on a stool pulling up weeds around the ravaged tomato plants. In vengeance, I attacked the stubborn things with a hoe and piled them into the wheelbarrow. The sweat poured down my face, the dirt lodged under my nubbed down fingernails as I dug out the roots and shook out the soil and dropped weeds in the wheelbarrow to cart to the compost pile.

Within the hour, I sowed 25 Cosmos seeds in the bare square of soil. Hope springs eternal.

In that action, replanting, I built my hopes back up, that this time the seeds would survive and we would rescue the seedlings before they could succumb to any critters, drought or weeds. The marigolds were gone, cosmos mowed down, but — the zinnia were flourishing in such a undaunted display of bright pink, orange and yellow it renewed my spirit.

The zinnia are flourishing

There were still some green tomatoes left to ripen. I collected enough basil for pesto, and four cucumbers, for a sandwich or cold soup.

Mayo, plus onion and thinly sliced cuke is good, but not as good as the tomato version!~

Three days later. . . I went out to the garden to cut some zinnias for a friend. The tomato plants, bending with the weight of green fruit, were towering over the trap, set up by a neighboring gardener. There was the culprit groundhog, round as a basketball, appearing to lick his mouth after his feast, in the cage. He looked up at me, as if to say, thanks for all the great tomatoes. Around him, I assessed more damage:tomatoes with tiny bites taken out. He must have had a feast before the cage door shut.

I called Rob, who then notified Julia, who will make sure he finds a happy home away from the garden before the day is over.

It's  only a matter of a few days before those green gems ripen and I have my tomato sandwich; the Cherokee Purple, on textured white bread slathered with Duke's. 

Groundhog trapped, at least for a day

On my way out, I announce triumphantly to a toiling neighbor-gardener that we had caught the groundhog. In his plot, he was surveying cabbage which the groundhog had dined on earlier, maybe as an appetizer. I thought he’d be happier about the news. He’s experienced, persistent as the critters and the weeds, as you have to be in this business.

He said he had a garden in the Shenandoah Valley a few years ago. He trapped two groundhogs and took them five miles away to another place way up in the mountains in the woods.

“The next day both were back,” he said, turning back to weeding.

Tomatoes ready to ripen–without the groundhog

Daylesford: organic to the max

Lady Carole Bamford has created an organic empire from Daylesford, her farm in the Cotswolds. I’d heard about it from my cousin Paula, who grew even more enthusiastic about going organic for her farm (next to ours in Virginia), after a visit to Daylesford. So eager for some inspiration, I headed to Daylesford on the second day of my trip to the Cotswolds.

I love how Lady Bamford, wife of multibillionaire Anthony Bamford, founder of the construction firm JCB, has embraced farming as the route to a healthy, prosperous life. The socialite travels the world by helicopter and jet. She’s officially a baronness, honored by the queen for her charity work–and yet she wants to be known as a farmer, according to published reports. She turned her family farm into a thriving organic enterprise 40 years ago. Now at age 76, she operates three popular upscale cafes in London; two well-reviewed pub-restaurants; a wellness spa; winery in southern France; distillery; clothing line; home goods; charities in India–and don’t forget the actual farm.

All organic and self-sustaining.

If it’s not directly from her organic farm, Daylesford sources from certified organic farms. These tomatoes, (at about $15 for 2 pounds), come from Spain.

The real center of her enterprise is here at Daylesford which started as an organic farm shop in 2002. Forget the old images of battered, shrunken organic fruit; everything sold at Daylesford is organic, pricey, and chic, as beautifully produced as a perfect pear.

First impression: sleek and expensive

I am fascinated by her enterprise and how she has so successfully capitalized on organic farming.

My first impression is not of a farm, but a sleek glass and wood structure, lined out front with topiaries and a big parking lot full of cars from the city.

Behind the topiaries, perfect organic fruits and vegetables are displayed in bins, as in the traditional farmers market. But that’s where the homespun comparison stops and yields to Bamford’s style and business sense that’s like an English Martha Stewart.

In the Home Goods department, an elegant lady was hanging felt Easter eggs on branches artfully arranged above the $200 tablecloths . “All from the property here,” she offered., referring to the branches. The English decorate these Easter trees with eggs, she added. The eggs are hand embroidered with carrots and bunnies, sustainably, in Nepal.

In Housewares, where they sell luscious smelling products like rosemary loo (toilet) cleaner, I met a couple from London. The woman was clutching purchases that included a bag full of organic, disposable aluminum foil, eco-rubber gloves and a tin of biscuits for her mother. Despite the high prices, she is happy to shop organic because it is pesticide free and not contributing to climate change, she says. “But I have to ask, why is it good food only for the people who have the money?”

A dust tray and brush for about $40 (32 pounds). High quality and high expense is the rule at Daylesford

Her partner was a bit more skeptical. “I just came to see what all the fuss is about.” He paused. “Totally aspirational. . .What is this all about? I don’t know. They have a car park full of cars.”

I’ve noted the English are much more conscious of climate change than Americans.

Daylesford avoids packages in favor of filling recyclable or reusable containers with everything from Quinoa to herbs.

Tour of cheese, wine, everything organic

I had hoped to get a tour of the farm, but it is off limits to visitors. I also would have loved to meet “Lady B” as she is called by staff; she often comes to check on things, the manager, Risvon Fernandes, said, in front of the three restaurants featuring Daylesford produce. Fernandes tried to put it all in perspective for me: “This is a dream of Lad Bamford. She puts her stamp on everything,and it is all organic.”

We ambled through the beautifully displayed housewares to a nook with 14 different kinds of cheese made at Daylesford; the smell of moldering cheese almost knocked me out. That was next to a cubicle featuring organic wine made by hand at the Chateau Leoube, famed for its organic Rose. The winery was transformed into organic by the Bamfords.

Handmade cheeses

Then there was the cookery school with multiple state of the art stoves and gear. The wellness spa is across the way. I checked out the airy stone and wood boutique which displays Bamford’s simple classic styles. She imports some fabric from Jaipur, a town in India where she has organized and supported Indian crafts such as indigo dying. The linen comes from various farms in England. I liked the plain white sweater but at $540, I opted to go on a walk to indulge in the good, local food at the local pub, the Wild Rabbit (also owned by Bamford).

The high-end products contrast with the dirty work of farming. Yet her philosophy about organic farming runs deep, from the roots of her surrounding 1500-acre estate to the sheets on the beds of her luxurious cottages that she rents out to tourists in search of the green countryside. Everything, her website states, is “designed to be mindful of its footprint and create an ethical, environmental and sustainable way, inspiring others to live consciously and well.”

Opposition to pesticides

According to an interview in the London Financial Times, which paid tribute to her business acumen, Bamford became an advocate for organic foods when she was a young mother outside with her baby. She noted the wilting roses in the garden. The wilted condition was traced to pesticides sprayed by nearby farms. “Better to pay the real price for food than later on in the doctor’s office,” noted Bamford, in response to the criticism of the high price of her products.

As self-sustaining as it claims to be, I found it hard to get public transportation out there from Broadway and had to hire a driver. Then I could not find a way to get to The Wild Rabbit, the Michelin recommended pub in nearby Kingham.

A Walk to the Wild Rabbit pub

With map in hand, I headed across the parking lot, down the road to a path, that was as pristine as the Cotswold Way, through beautifully kept fields. Every field in this area appears groomed by landscapers, groomed naturally, by the sheep and cows.

On the 3-mile walk, I caught glimpses of the farm operations, neat and without any evidence of pesticides but I can’t really tell. The terrain was really muddy and flat, great for splashing through puddles at a relaxed pace, all by myself. Breathing in the beauty of the landscape.

At the Wild Rabbit, with carved wooden rabbits placed as accents to the rustic decor, I ate lunch–a delicious bright green leek, potato soup, dense with the earthy leek flavor, and whole grain sour dough bread, cheese and butter, (made on the farm) accompanied by a half pint of Cheltenham gold beer.

The host told me they are working to get 3-stars for their ambitious menu. I missed a chance to try the tasting menu, set for later, Wednesday through Saturday, where they showcase delectable creations reflecting the day’s produce. He described a rabbit dish, with rabbit bacon, wrapped around lobster. Also intriguing is a salad of nasturtium root and parsnip crisps or braised pigs head, swede, mead and sage. You can also rent a cottage or rooms with rustic chic and luxurious amenities around the corner from the pub.

I’m content with the soup, and the cozy atmosphere of the pub, with its airy, light feel and leather chairs set in front of a fire. I chatted with a well-heeled guest who came in to the pub to meet a friend. Lady B has bought more properties near The Fox, a former 18th century inn also owned by Bamford, in a neighboring village, she said.

“I wonder if she will keep the post office,” she mused.

Are the townspeople upset she is buying up everything? I asked.

Not really, because like many small villages struggling to survive in the depressed English economy, the town was in need of a boost, she said.

Reflections

Lady B has the exquisite taste and the deep pockets that keep the enterprises going–fueled by a growing appetite for healthy food and land, amid concern for climate change. Her farm is one of the most successful organic farms in England, according to the Financial Times. I admire how she has built this market, glamorizing farming and the move to organic in a way that brings more profits for local farmers and better pesticide-free food for anyone willing to pay. She proves how successful organic can be.

Could such a model work in the States using farms as hubs for markets?